


The Loser's Club

by tobeaskeleton



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Breakfast Club AU, F/M, First Kiss, Implied abuse, Lots of Cursing, M/M, but there's no smut, cursing, they r sixteen, they talk about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeaskeleton/pseuds/tobeaskeleton
Summary: Who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?aka my richie/eddie breakfast club au





	The Loser's Club

**Author's Note:**

> fell in love with this concept and tried my best to do it justice. comments and critcism are greatly appreciated!

Saturday mornings leave Derry High School unusually quiet, Ben notices. On this particular day in autumn, colored leaves litter the empty quad while strong winds ripple through Ben’s mop of hair. He hears his aunt complain as he steps out of the car while his mother looks silently out the window.

“Only one semester in and your kid is already a troublemaker. God, it’s so pathetic-”

He walks away from earshot and toward the front doors. He doesn’t think skipping gym class volleyball for studying in the library made him a troublemaker, but whatever. He’ll have plenty time to research during detention.

-

Eddie’s mom nearly had a heart attack when she learned her poor Eddie had gotten a detention. She called the school to assure them that they had gotten the wrong child. But no, they hadn’t. 

Stan’s dad reacted with the same amount of distress, but he paired it with a heavy scolding. When he drops Stan off, his face is still red from anger.

“Think about what you’ve done. You got that?”

Stan nods, spotting Mike Hanlon walking through the double doors. He frowns, wondering what their future valedictorian is in detention for.

-

Rows of desks are set up in the library, Ben already sitting by himself in the back, while Mike sits in the opposite corner of the room. Eddie is nervously tapping his nails on the side of his desk, and Stan, two seats over absentmindedly gazes out the window. 

And of course, no one is quite suprised at the appearance of Richie Tozier, who makes his presence obnoxiously known, taking a seat too close for Eddie’s comfort, and propping his feet up on the desk in front of him.

Bill groans at the sight of the group he’s stuck with for the next five hours. Fuck. He buries his head in his arms, until Mr. Vernon walks in, sipping from a styrofoam cup of hot coffee which Bill would die for. 

“Are you awake Mr. Denbrough?”

“Yes, s-sir,” he blurts back. Then, he finds himself wide awake when Beverly Marsh enters the room in all her glory, taking a seat by herself. Bill gazes at the back of her head, red curls falling down her back, wondering if the rumors are true. 

“Welcome to Saturday detention, everyone.” Mr. Vernon begins. “Glad to see you all could make it.” He gives a side glance at Bev. 

“You know it’s our pleasure, Mr. V,” Richie quips back. The evident sarcasm isn’t lost on the older man, who while already hotheaded, seems to be in a worse mood than usual.

Mr. Vernon crosses his arms. “Do you have an issue, Mr. Tozier?”

“No, not all! This is exactly how I want to spend my weekend.” Eddie gives the boy next to him a wide-eyed stare.

“Your loud mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble someday, kid,” Vernon retorts, scowling and crossing his arms.

“So is that fucked up botox you’ve got going on there.” Vernon’s expression darkens. 

“I can have you join me next Saturday if you’d like,” he suggests.

“I couldn’t think of anything I would rather do,” Richie bites back. Eddie, still in shock by Richie’s lack of a filter, nudges him with his elbow.

“Dude, stop,” he whispers. Richie rolls his eyes.

“And for you too, Mr Kaspbrak. Anyone else?” The room is dead silent. “While you’re all here’” Vernon continues. “I want you to write an essay, one page, of just who you think you are. Think about how you contribute to society for once.” He paces the room. “Any questions?” 

“Yeah. Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?” Richie asks. Eddie finds it hard to suppress his laughter, but when Richie looks over at him, grinning, Eddie quickly turns his smile into a scowl. 

-

Exceedingly long silences are not exactly Richie’s style, so he leans over on his desk, trying to take a nap. He fails miserably. In the corner of the room, Ben is reading one of the “History of Derry” books from the back of the library because of course he would. Bill is staring at Beverly, looking only a little creepy, while Mike fiddles with a pencil and Stan stares out the window. The kid next to Richie, he thinks his name is Eddie, is sketching some crudely drawn monsters on the side of his paper. Weird.

“Is that Wolfman?” Richie asks, pointing at the corner of Eddie’s page. Eddie ignores him and flips over the page. “God, okay, princess.”

“Oh, sh-shut up,” Bill retorts, annoyed. Ben puts down his book to observe. 

“Or-or wh-what, B-b-bill?” Richie bites back. Bill glowers at him. 

“Hey, you know he can’t help it,” Mike interjects. 

“Oh, I see, your boyfriend is helping you out, Big Bill,” Richie remarks, using the name Derry uses for Bill after a big football match.

“I don’t even kn-know him,” Bill replies. 

“You’re so defensive. You know isn’t that kind of homophobic, Big Bill? There’s nothing wrong with fucking Mike,” Richie adds, with faux sincerity. 

“I’ll make sure my girlfriend knows that,” Mike replies. 

Richie opens his mouth to speak when Eddie adds in, “Shut up, Trashmouth. That’s what people call you, right?”

“No, just your mom.”

Bev scoffs and chimes in. “Do boys ever know when to stop degrading each other?”

“You’re one to talk about degrading…” Mike murmurs. She feels her stomach clench. Degrading… Her father has said something like that to her. 

(I know what boys think when they look at you.)

She shutters.

“Hey, don’t say that about her,” Ben says, his eyebrows furrowed together. 

Mike actually mutters back a, “Sorry,” which must be good enough for Ben because he opens his book again to where he left off. Bev gives him a small smile, which he doesn’t see, being he is too invested in his novel. 

They all collectively groan when they hear the sound of Mr. Vernon’s footsteps approaching them. He opens the doors to the library, scanning the room of now perfectly silent students. 

“What’s going on in here?” he asks. Nothing. “If I hear a peep out of any of you, it’s another Saturday detention.”

And at that, Richie grabs one of Eddie’s arms and pinches him. Hard. 

“Ow!” Eddie begins, but quickly disguises it as a sneeze when he sees Mr. Vernon’s stoic stare on him. “...choo.” He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, walking back out the door where he came from. Eddie glares at Richie. “Why the fuck did you do that for?”

“To see your reaction,” Richie responds with a smirk. Smug asshole, Eddie thinks. But then he hears Bill laughing and a small chuckle from Stan as well.

“Y-you sh-should have seen y-your face,” Bill laughs. Eddie’s cheeks heats up. 

“Whatever,” he mutters. Suddenly an alarm from his watch sounds, and he struggles to open the fanny pack around his hips to reveal a yellow pill bottle. He takes out two pills and stands up to swallows them down by the water fountain at the front corner of the room. 

When, he looks up, he realizes everyone is staring at him.

“What?” 

“Is that a fanny pack?” Stan asks first.

“Dude, did you just take, like, acid or something?” Ben asks. Richie turns around and gives Ben an unimpressed look.

“Yes, because I have an alarm on my watch for when I want to drop acid,” Eddie replies. He checks his watch again. “Not to mention I don’t want brain damage at sixteen, thank you.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” Richie says, resting his hands behind his head. 

“Oh, like you have,” Bev laughs. Richie flips her off. 

“You don’t know shit about me.”

“I think we all can make a pretty good guess,” Stan quips.

“Guess then,” Richie replies. “I dare you.” He walks up to stan, placing his hands on his desk, trying and failing to look intimidating. 

“Well, for one, you act like hot shit even though we all know and see how transparent that act is.” Stan leans back in his chair, casually and bemused. “You’re just a virgin with a big mouth.” 

“God, you should know better, Stanley Boy. Your mom definitely does.”

“You can’t get a rise out of me. I don’t crack,” Stan replies, unflinching. “I just think you’re full of shit.”

“And I guess you’re so experienced then?” Richie retorts. Stan shrugs. 

“Whatever. At least I’m honest.”

“Don’t you know? I’m not lying; I reclaimed the title of the school slut,” Richie says, gesturing toward Bev.

“I thought we were over that,” she says. “You know I’ve never actually-” she falters.

“Wh-what?” Bill asks.

“What is it, Beverly? How many bodies?” Richie asks, quirking an eyebrow. Beverly sighs, looking at the wide-eyed boys around her.

“You know, there’s no right answer. You’re either a slut or a prude,” she realizes laughing. “God, fuck all of you.” For a moment, even Richie is rendered speechless. “I’ve never been with anyone,” she admits. No one says a word. But it’s almost a comfortable silence.

“It’s okay,” Ben says. “Me neither.”

“Thanks, Ben,” Bev replies, grinning at the boy. Richie fights to suppress a laugh, biting the insides of his cheeks. 

“Wait I’m confused now,” Mike deadpans. “I,thought Ben was the school’s slut.” Ben blushes but laughs with the rest of them. Richie looks over at Eddie who hasn’t spoken for a while and is fiddling with his pencil, mindlessly. He’s deep in thought, Richie realizes. Richie boops his nose to distract him. Eddie flinches and stares at Richie incredulously.

“Hey, Eddie, what time is it?” Bev asks. 

The boy checks his watch. “11:45.”

“Fif-fifteen m-minutes til lunch,” Bill reflects. Bev stands up, pacing back and forth, bored.

“H-he told us to stay in our seats, I think,” Stan points out, glancing at the door, nervously.

“God, you guys are so lame,” she sighs, still pacing. “This is so fucking boring.” She suddenly turns to Richie, tilting her head like she’s contemplating something. 

-

At lunch, they walk down the hall together, looking the most unusual group of people you would ever expect to be seen all in the same place. Bev and Richie both opt to go to the bathroom while the rest line up behind the venmachine. Eddie, who never so much as touches caffeine, leans against a nearby locker, his arms crossed. 

Bev comes back, Richie trailing after her. “Guys, we’re gonna go get Richie’s stash from his locker,” she whispered. “Come on.”

Ben and Bill, lovestruck by Beverly, quickly followed. Mike, Stan and Eddie all seemed hesitant. Eventually, Stan leads them towards the others, but not before Eddie turns to face Mike, muttering, “Marijuana? Do you approve of this?” Mike shrugs, clearly unsure, and follows the rest to Richie’s locker.

Getting there isn’t the hard part. They grab the stuff, quickly, before hearing footsteps.

They run. Quick, nearly slipping at every turn, careful to not be seen. Approaching a route back to the library, they run into a dead end. 

“F-fuck,” Bill stutters. Eddie takes out his inhaler and proceeds to use it. 

“This was a great idea,” Stan says, annoyed. Richie looks around as if formulating a plan. He shoves the rest of the stuff into Eddie’s pants.

“Run,” Richie says, dead serious. When Eddie lags behind, Richie grabs his wrist and pulls him along with the rest of the group. They’ve almost made it back to the library when the familiar sound of Vernon’s footsteps echo through the halls. Bev turns around, wide eyed and runs into the girl’s bathroom, the rest following suit. 

“Wh-what the-” Bill starts. He looks around and blushes. Mike looks curiously at the nearby tampon dispenser. Bev rolls her eyes at them before peaking her head out the door. 

“Coast is clear,” she whispers. Eddie looks down. Richie is still holding onto him.

-  
“If I get anywhere near that stuff, I’ll wheeze myself to death,” Eddie says, crossing his arms. Bev shrugs.

“More for us,” Richie says. Ben follows Bev. Which means Bill does too. Eddie feels a little betrayed when Mike and Stan join them.

He wasn’t going to smoke weed. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t curious at all! Not one bit. His mom has told him about all the negative health effects, the brain damage, the cancerous fumes.   
“You coming, Eddie?” Richie asks.

“Yeah, just a second!” Fuck.

-

Bill comes out of the recently hotboxed record room, eyes bright with a joint between his fingers. Eddie takes another hit and coughs.

“You got it, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie giggles. Eddie pushes him without much force.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Fine, Edmund.”

Eddie takes off Richie’s glasses, which causes Bev to laugh hysterically, nearly falling out of her seat. 

“My glasses, my glasses, I can’t see without my glasses!” he exclaims, placing his hand to his forehead dramatically as if he’s a damsel in distress. Mike throws them at Richie, and they land perfectly wedged between Richie’s legs which is hysterically funny for a reason that no one understands.

Ben looks around, still laughing but a little spaced off. He puts on Bev’s sunglasses, leaning back in his chair. 

“You look like,” Stan giggles, “one cool motherfucker.”

Eddie walks into the record room, flipping through music until he finds what he’s looking for. Through the speakers, the Weather Girls’ “It’s Raining Men” plays. Bill is already dancing along, which makes them all start, doing stupid moves they would never be caught in public doing.

Ben feels awkward, shifting from foot to foot, reminded me of the extra twenty or so pounds on him, which has always made him look like an idiot when he dances. He’s about to sit down when he feels someone grab his hand. He looks up; it’s Beverly. 

She drags him into the center of the room, dancing wildly so he does the same. He has never smiled so hard in his life. 

-

“You know, I used to take ballet,” Bev muses.

“R-really?” Bill muses.

“Yeah, my mom used to take me,” she reminisces. “Anyway, I was shit at it.”

“We’re all terrible dancers, Beverly,” Mike points out.

Richie scoffs. “Speak for yourself.”

He looks over to see Eddie holding out a pill bottle, reading the prescription. Shouldn’t he know what’s in his own medicine? 

Richie is about to ask this when Eddie untwists the cap too hard and medicine bursts out. 

Eddie looks at the pills which are scattered across the carpet.

“Eddie,” Beverly says, grabbing a handful, “C’mon don’t you need these?”

“They’re covered in germs now,” he replies. He begins laughing softly. “God, what does it matter? They’re all fucking fake anyway.” He picks one up between his index and forefinger, examining it. “Do you guys want to know why I’m here? Why I’m really here?” When no one replies, he takes it as a cue to continue. “These pills, I found out they’re fucking fake. You guys know Erick K?”

“Yeah, he’s in my t-trig class,” Bill says, barely above a whisper.

“Well, he’s the pharmacist’s son, you know? One day, he comes up to me. He starts talking about my mom, calling her fat a-and a cunt and... He says, ‘You know, Eddie, she’s just trying to trap you. Keep you her baby forever.’ He said his dad told him that. And that my pills, and my inhaler and everything are all fucking gazebos.”

“I think you mean-” Ben begins.

“Shh, let him finish,” Bev stops him.

“And so I punched him in the face.”

“Wow, that’s pretty badass, Eds,” Richie says, impressed. “You knock him out?” Eddie glares at him.

“I broke one of my fingers.”

Stan tries hard to suppress a laugh, Mike then giggling and suddenly even Eddie is laughing.

“I know, it’s pretty pathetic,” he admits.

“You’re not pathetic,” Richie replies. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to comfort Eddie, but he does all the same. His voice has a sort of tenderness he didn’t know he had in him.

“Richie,” Eddie laughs. “I’ve never done anything. I’ve never, uh, had sex, never done drugs, or, well, I hadn’t before today. I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

Richie is actually suprised to hear that Eddie has never been kissed. He’s not unattractive, albeit a bit dorky. But with his pretty, long eyelashes, sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks and his lips parted slightly, Richie thinks any girl would be lucky to kiss him. 

Richie sighs. “I’ve never had sex before either. The thing is, girls have wanted to… I got too nervous.” 

“Aren’t guys supposed to be disgusting horndogs who always ask for it?” Bev questions. “At least that’s what my dad always says, but, you know…”

“I guess not,” Richie says. “Your dad must be wrong.”

“He’s wrong about most things,” she says. “He believes all of those rumors too and he… I don’t really want to talk about.” The pain becomes evident in her eyes. She tries to laugh it off, but it doesn’t work. 

“My dad sucks too,” Richie offers. “My mom drinks herself to the brink of death most nights.He’s gone most of the time, working “late nights” and stuff. Coming back smelling like fucking tacky perfume like no one can tell.”

Eddie stares at Richie, wondering how much he doesn’t know about the other boy. 

“I know I’m pretty, Eds, you don’t have to stare.”

Eddie looks at his shoes.

“At least he’s not breathing down your neck every second of every day,” Bev continues, sounding like she might cry. No one speaks. “What? Am I supposed to be fucking closed off all the time? I have feelings I have emotions I just-” she pinches her nose and breathes in and and out and in. “Fuck me.”

“Why do people get so fucked up when they’re old?” Stan asks, quietly. “You’re never good enough.”

“Never get good enough grades,” Mike adds.

“Yeah, says you.”

Mike shakes his head. “It’s never good enough. I’m never good enough. I mean, look where I am, with all of you.”

“Thanks…” Eddie says under his breathe.

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean… well…”

“Well, there must be a reason you’re here,” Stan states, matter-of-factly. “We all fucked up.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Stan sighs. “I fell asleep in class. Not interesting, I know.”

“I stole test answers,” Mike admits. “I couldn’t stand not understanding AP calc. So I…”

“Cheated,” Richie finishes for him. 

“Yeah.”

“They t-tell us n-not to ch-cheat, but our wh-whole f-future relies on our gr-grades.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get enough football scholarships, B-bill,” Stan bites. 

“Oh f-fuck you.” Bill stands up. “Y-you d-don’t kn-know the pressure-”

“Oh, I don’t know pressure? What about when my dad kept me up all night to study for my bar mitzvah? Or chastised me for ever mistake-every bad grade? What did you get in trouble for, well Bill?”

“I was skipping cl-class-”

“-Of course.”

“I thought I could find my brother.”

The room goes silent, all of them recalling Georgie’s disappearance years prior. The abduction never solved, almost everyone had forgotten about it. It was easier that way.

“I-I f-found h-his shoe the other d-day and I thought… I d-don’t kn-kn-know.”

“Fuck, man,” Richie whispers.

“Yeah,” Stan agrees. “Fuck.” 

“God, look at us…” Bev whispers. “We’re a mess.” She laughs. “You know why I’m here?”

“Why?” Ben asks.

“Because I didn’t want to be home and…” She laughs. “I had nothing better to do.”

Eddie can’t help but to giggle and the rest join him, grinning like madmen. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been happier. 

-

Ben is showing Mike his favorite books in the history section, pointing out the most interesting chapters and discussing his own personal theories. Bill, who admittedly finds himself a little bit curious, joins them, listening intently. 

Richie rips out a page in an old book and shows Stan how to roll a perfect joint, Stan making fun of him but is also kind of intrigued. 

When Bev pulls Eddie into the mystery book section, confusion is written all over his face. She laughs at him, which makes him feel even more lost.

“What?” he asks. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No…” she says. “It’s just…” She ruffles his hair.

“What was that for?”

“You look less like a mormon now,” she says. She digs in her bag and finds her hair product. He flinches as she works it into his hair, him being too shocked to move. 

“What’s wrong with how I looked before?”

“Nothing,” she says. “But it doesn’t match you anymore. You’re a new Eddie.” She gets out a container of eyeliner.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll look cool. Like Robert Smith or the old David Bowie.” 

He gives her an incredulous look. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll look hot.” 

Eddie blushes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re letting me,” she answers, simply.

-

As Richie continues to talk to Stan, he can’t stop thinking about Eddie getting taken away with Beverly Marsh. He should be happy for him, right? The smooth fucker. But something burns in the pit of his stomach. 

Stan leaves to go to the bathroom when Eddie reemerges. 

It’s not that Richie hadn’t noticed Eddie all day, hadn’t regarded him, because he had. His pretty mouth smiling and frowning respectively, his bashfulness at all of Richie’s comments. 

Bev seems to have run off with the others, leaving Eddie alone with Richie at the back of the library. Eddie giggles in response to Richie’s expression, his pupils blown and his mouth agape. 

“I know I’m pretty, but you don’t have to stare,” Eddie says, repeating Richie’s words. He sits beside Richie. 

“I can’t help it, you’re just so cute, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie replies, though it comes out as nearly a whisper. Richie glances down at Eddie’s lips. Oh. Oh, Eddie realizes, his heart hammering in his chest. Maybe he should lean away, but he can’t find the power in him too. And then, suddenly, Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier’s lips are on his. 

And it’s a moment Eddie feels like he should’ve anticipated. He thinks about what his mother has told him about sickness and germs and…

He doesn’t care.

He cups Richie’s cheek, tenderly, opening his mouth into the kiss. Richie pulls away, gazing at Eddie, seemingly in a trance. 

“Woah,” Richie whispers. “I didn’t know that-”

“-Me neither.” Eddie laughs. 

“God, you look crazy,” Richie says, running a thumb over the eyeliner that has smeared under Eddie’s eyes. Eddie takes the hand away from his face and clasps it with his own. 

They’re interrupted by the beeping of Eddie’s watch. 

“Fuck,” he says. “We’re leaving in a half an hour and none of us have written a single word.”

Richie shrugs. “I doubt he even reads those things. It’s just busy work.” 

“Still…” Eddie says.

-

With five minutes left, Mike places the completed essay at the front of the room. It’s barely half a page.

They walk out together. Bev kisses Ben on the cheek before he leaves, his face turning bright red. Bill feels a bit jealous but nods at Ben, half-grinning. Stan and Mike leave shortly after.

Eddie and Richie linger behind, both of them still holding hands, preparing to walk in separate directions. Eddie grabs Richie’s other hand, pulling him into another kiss.

Richie feels something placed in his hand. He looks down. It’s Eddie’s inhaler. He chuckles, taking it in a fist and blowing it in the air as he walks away.

Dear Mr. Vernon,   
we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole saturday in detention for whatever it is we did wrong, but we think you're crazy for making us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out, is that each one of us is   
a loudmouth,  
an athlete,   
a future valedictorian,  
a slut,  
a bookworm,  
an uptight Jew,  
and a hypochondriac.   
Does that answer your question? 

Sincerely yours, The Loser’s Club.


End file.
